Disciplinary Action
by Moony3003
Summary: Smokescreen abandons his post one night at the base and Optimus decides to punish him using unusual methods.


**Warning:** Story contains heavy slash. Don't like, please don't read.

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Disciplinary Action

It wasn't the silence or the inactivity of the past few weeks that was keeping him up. It wasn't even the war with the decepticons that had been waging for countless eons. The troubles were of a personal nature and Optimus wasn't usually one to share what he was feeling. It came with being a Prime. The other bots probably assumed he didn't have any emotions to speak of.

Since becoming a Prime he had done very well in concealing everything he felt from anger and sadness to happiness and amusement. Perhaps he had come too efficient at it as it wasn't just his status that kept him separate from the others. There were times when he missed the social interaction but it wasn't often. And tonight, it was what was keeping him up.

Most times a long drive into the city, surrounded by humans in their vehicles made him feel normal again as it reminded him of his ultimate mission. But it didn't work the last couple of times and it sent constant signals of frustration through his circuits. For the first time in a long while Optimus didn't know what to do and it left him feeling strange. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it but he knew that wasn't an option.

Late at night the base almost looked different. It was oddly quiet with each of the others retreating to their private quarters for the night to power down. Usually Optimus did the same unless it was his turn on patrol and although he wasn't, moving around was the only thing giving him any kind of relief. With that Optimus stopped in his tracks, realising that he hadn't yet seen Smokescreen, who was the one on patrol.

Whoever was on patrol normally came back to base a few times to refuel and do an inner sweep before going back out. The fact that Optimus hadn't seen or heard Smokescreen as he had been pacing around the base for hours had him slightly worried. The young bot may have been inexperienced on the battlefield but he knew the rules that everyone kept.

"Smokescreen," said Optimus, clicking his comlink. "Report your status."

There was nothing but silence in response. Smokescreen must have turned his comlink off. A slight frown hit Optimus's normally impassive metal face and he went in search of his newest recruit. Even the halls looked different at night. They were lined with minimal lighting and the additional lights from Optimus' chassis casted long, deep shadows on each side. As he walked, Optimus wondered what he should do to make Smokescreen remember that his duties come first.

Smokescreen's quarters were in the same block at Bumblebee's, with a few doors separating them. The door to the quarters was open and the light was shining out from within the main room. But at a few feet away from it, a sound stopped him cold. It was a moan; a low guttural moan usually only heard when...

Optimus blinked rapidly at the images that the noise created and he had to shake his head roughly in order to dislodge them. The noise rushed through his audio sensors as it was made again and Optimus suddenly had second thoughts about checking on Smokescreen until another moan came, this one sounding pained. There were also words cutting in and out but he couldn't decipher any of them.

It brought up several questions; who was in there with him? Arcee? Bumblebee? Wheeljack?

With the quietest footsteps that he could manage, Optimus approached the open door and went inside. There was a small living area that was unfurnished and there was another door that led to the berth room. The second door was wide open, giving Optimus a clear view inside.

And there, inside on the berth, was Smokescreen. He was clearly alone, lying face down with both knees propping up his aft. The moaning instantly made sense. The panel to Smokescreen's valve was wide open and three digits currently occupied it. Slowly, they were pulled free with a lift of Smokescreen's hips before he sank back down on them, the squishing of lubrication and fluids filling the room.

"Ah! Opti-mus!" mewled Smokescreen, fulling impaling himself.

Optimus's optics widened and his mouth fell open slightly as his name was heard. He knew he was intruding on a private moment and that he should leave but both of his legs felt incredibly heavy and he wasn't sure that he could get away without being spotted or heard.

"I'm here to serve you," panted Smokescreen, pulling off his fingers again. "I can take it... all of it. Give it to me!"

With those words Smokescreen slammed down on his three fingers harshly, his hips bucking, spreading his legs a little wider. The sudden and intense pressure building on Optimus broke and he caved in, allowing himself to look while his presence was still unknown.

Only twice had Optimus been in any situation like this and neither of them had been as stimulating or alluring as this. For his frame, Smokescreen had long muscular limbs, each plating of armour shining in the light and just as he turned his head against the berth, Optimus saw that his usually innocent blue optics had been squeezed shut. His entire face was contorted as he focused on a specific fantasy.

Optimus already knew what Smokescreen was thinking but not the details. It was intriguing to him. There had been plenty of times in the past when he had met a fellow autobot who was pleased or eager to meet him but none of them had come close to Smokescreen. His surprise and delight at being with him was both comical and endearing and the admonishment had gone on for weeks. Even now, there were glimpses of it if one took the time to notice.

Despite the gorgeous sight going on in front of him Optimus couldn't help but ask himself, "Had I really not noticed anything more?"

A sharp screech put Optimus's attention back on Smokescreen who had just retracted his front panel. Instantly, his spike jutted out and into the air and the strong scent of his lubricant filled both rooms. For a moment Optimus lost himself in the delicious smell of it. The next moment Optimus watched as Smokescreen grasped his spike and just held it, squeezing lightly.

At the sight Optimus felt the space behind his own front panel become increasingly confined and he made a quick decision. The punishment wasn't going to be what he originally intended but perhaps it would work better although it was unbecoming of Prime culture but he reasoned that they weren't on Cybertron. The first few steps towards Smokescreen felt strange but at reaching the berth, Optimus felt in complete control again.

Gingerly, Optimus placed a large hand between Smokescreen's door wings, admiring the two 38's on each one and instantly, the younger bot froze before panic set in. His hands shot to the berth as he attempted to push himself up but Optimus kept him in place. Optimus then moved the other hand downwards and over Smokescreen's aft, the interface panel slamming shut before he reached the hot, wet valve.

"What - !?"

"I can provide you with something better than a fantasy," Optimus teased, running his hand over the closed panel.

"Opt- Optimus," choked Smokescreen. "I didn't mean- I'm sorry! I-"

"Shh..." soothed Optimus, his deep voice purring with his next words. "Just relax. Open for me."

Immediately, Smokescreen obeyed the gentle command and he sucked in oxygen in an attempt to cool his circuits a little. Feeling Optimus's hands caress his body made Smokescreen wonder if he had overloaded so hard that he knocked himself out. But when one of Optimus' large fingers brushed against the lining of his valve, he knew it was real as it felt so much better than his own fingers had.

A choked groan rumbled in Smokescreen's throat and his hips bucked, begging for further attention. Then not one but two fingers pushed their way inside. Smokescreen spread his legs apart as far as he could, completely exposing himself. A shudder washed over him as pleasurable sensations buzzed through his circuits.

"I want to make you proud," gasped Smokescreen. "All I want is you."

In response, Optimus forced a third finger into Smokescreen's already full valve and enjoyed the sounds he was rewarded with. For a few minutes Optimus revelled in teasing him while the other hand moved from between his door wings to scarcely stroke his length. Optimus didn't want Smokescreen overloading before him and as he had already riled himself up so much, he had to be gentle.

Soon the fullness in his valve vanished and Smokescreen groaned in protest. He tried to turn and see what had happened but Optimus easily held him in one place, denying him a single glance. With barely a sound Optimus' front interface panel opened and a spike which was blue with a red under side stood up, proud and needy and it was almost as impressive as he was.

Optimus's hands stilled on Smokescreen's hips and he gazed down at the young bot that was willing and open to him. Being the leader of the autobots gave him much respect and power but this was different, in a good way. After admiring the view, Optimus lined his body in position and pushed forward, thrusting into Smokescreen's body.

Smokescreen cried out in ecstasy as he was filled to the brim and stretched beyond belief. With a lot of effort, Smokescreen pushed up onto his hands despite the constant shaking in his arms. A heavy groan growled in Optimus's throat as he set in an easy, quick rhythm, loving the sound of his body pounding against the much younger one.

Optimus's hands tightened at Smokescreen's hips possessively as the intensity increased. The valve was so incredibly tight that he was sure he spike was hurting Smokescreen. But the warrior in training's words were no longer coherent and he had gripped his spike again, stroking it in time with Optimus's thrusts.

The pace gradually increased and soon the room was full of nothing but moans and breathy grunts. The large, thick spike sank in deeply, feeling the tight valve constrict in a delicious sensation and it pushed Optimus over the edge. Overload hit and pleasure shot across both their frames, electricity crackling along their circuits.

Optimus called out hoarsely, bucking inside the hot mess and holding as still as he could, feeling each new wave of release wash over him. Smokescreen cried out and his optics shot open as his overload instantly followed. The addition of Smokescreen's ecstasy melded with Optimus's, sending further waves of pleasure and crackling along each circuit.

Neither of them was sure how long they had remained but Optimus eventually released him, his hands slipping away and Smokescreen then collapsed into a satisfied heap on the berth. With the last little bits of energy he had left, Smokescreen watched as Optimus's spike retracted, the panel closed and he began to walk away without saying a word.

Smokescreen understood. Besides, he wasn't sure there was anything to say but he was certain of two things; his flouting of the rules had gotten him much more than he could have ever hoped for by his hero and mentor and it gave him heaps of idea of how there might be a way to get a repeat.


End file.
